


After Grant

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: The Forbidden Love of Nightwing and Deathstroke [35]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Caring Slade Wilson, Gentleness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: Taking place almost directly after "He Won't Hurt You", Dick spends three weeks unconscious in the hospital, only to find Slade's completely left the country.He's not answering the phone and Dick's wedding ring is missing.Combined with the fact that Dick can't remember anything, then what else is he supposed to assume other than Slade wants a divorce?





	After Grant

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place right after the third story of "He Will Shatter You"
> 
> Just for reference

Dick was floating in darkness, limbs heavy and dumb. He couldn’t remember the last thing to happen and he didn’t particularly care. 

His hand felt lighter than it should be and he looked down, frowning when he noticed his wedding ring was missing.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much. 

They’d been married for a year and a half and sometimes Slade would take both of their rings to wash. 

He always did it in the morning when Dick was asleep. Usually he slid it back on Dick’s finger before Dick was aware, but Dick supposed he was a little behind today.

But that was alright.

Dick was comfortable in this soft, drifting darkness so he wasn’t too worried. Slade could do whatever he wanted, he was old enough.

With a soft sigh, Dick closed his eyes and let himself drift off into comfortable sleep.

 

……………..

 

The second time he was aware was definitely far less comfortable. There were bright lights and shouting. The thing he was on was hard and moving and when he shifted, his body lit up with pain and drew a strangled cry from his lips.

He couldn’t make out the words that were being shouted over his head, but he had maybe a moment to register that it sounded like counting before he was being lifted and placed on something even harder.

This time he did scream before blacking out from sudden, overwhelming pain.

 

…………

 

He came to in little bursts of consciousness, but never fully enough to open his eyes or look around before he was dragged back down to sleep. His body felt weighed down and heavy, like it weighed a hundred pounds or more. He was always very aware that he wasn’t alone, but the heavy lull of painkillers was always too much to fight, sweeping him under the tidal wave of sleep before he ever knew who was with him.

 

……….

 

When Dick finally came to a consciousness that actually stuck, he was aware of a warm body pressed firmly against his side, as well as the fact that his hands were resting on his stomach.

Not that he could feel his hands, mind you. Or really, anything below the wrists. He tried to shift but found that he couldn’t feel enough of his body to do so. He felt slightly distressed and so peeled his eyes open, accidently whimpering when bright light stabbed his eyes.

“Turn off the lights, Pennyworth.”

Now  _ that  _ voice...Dick knew exactly who was pressed against his side now. “D’mian?” he asked, words slurring terribly.

“The lights are lower, Grayson,” Damian said, and Dick could feel him sitting up. “You can open your eyes.”

Dick hummed, slowly cracking his eyes open and looking around at the three blurry figures. Damian was easy to recognize since he was close enough to punch through the haze, but the other four were a mystery.

He blinked a couple of times and was pleased when Alfred came into view by his feet. Bruce and Tim were standing on his left - opposite Damian - and Jason was standing next to the head of the hospital bed.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked.

“Confused,” Dick replied honestly. “I don’t...know what happened?”

“You were tortured,” Jason replied. 

Before Dick had woken up, they had all simultaneously agreed - and convinced the doctor - that Slade should be the one to tell Dick he’d been assaulted since Slade was likely the one who would be most adept at comforting the acrobat.

“Tortured,” Dick repeated numbly. “Nightwing?”

“No,” Bruce replied. “As yourself.”

“Oh.” Dick looked down at his hands, frowning. “My hands are broken,” he commented uselessly.

Jason chuckled lightly. “Yeah.”

“How long have I been unconscious?” Dick asked. What he really wanted to ask was ‘are my hands damaged permanently?’ but he didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Two weeks,” Tim replied.

Dick opened his mouth, only to close it again and frown. “Where’s Slade?” he asked. It had finally occurred to him that he didn’t see his husband and…

And he really really wanted him now.

Everyone shared glances and Dick instantly knew they were hiding something. And maybe it was just the painkillers, but he was pretty sure that if no one told him anything in the next three seconds, he was gonna scream.

“They thought it was domestic abuse,” Jason said quietly. “So Slade hasn’t been allowed within fifteen feet of the entire hospital.”

“What?” Dick asked weakly. “Where is he?”

“I think he left the country for awhile,” Tim replied.

Dick felt like crying. “But...I want him.” he felt childish and petulant, but he  _ did. _ He wanted his husband. He wanted to lay in bed with his husband and not move for hours. He looked down at his hands. They were casted which meant he couldn’t see his fingers, but he had been so sure-

“How long do I have to be here?”

“Another week, at least,” Bruce replied.

Dick wanted to cry.

 

……….

 

He was curled up in bed in his apartment. His hands were still sore - not broken anymore, thank goodness - so he’d sent Slade a text as soon as he got out of the hospital.

Nothing. Dick probably would have easily been able to assume the man was busy and on a contract, if it weren’t for the fact that Dick’s wedding ring was missing.

He’d called Jason in a panic and when Jason had said the nurses said Dick hadn’t had it on when he’d been admitted, Dick had spent four hours crying in bed because…

Because why else would Slade leave the country and refuse to text Dick back. Dick’s ring was missing and supposedly Slade had been the one to bring him to the hospital.

So Slade wanted a divorce. He was just being an ass and going around it in a weird way. Dick cried a lot now. It had been two weeks and he hadn’t heard anything. He spent most of his time curled in bed and crying until Jason and Tim finally dragged him out and forced him out of the apartment for a few hours.

That had been the kick in the ass Dick needed and had eventually managed to score his old job with the police force back.

It had been a month since he’d been released from the hospital. He’d pulled a double shift and was beyond exhausted as he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, cursing - words slurred terribly - as he struggled to shove his key in the lock before finally managed to get on.

So tired was he, that the only thing he observed was a figure and the TV on. Assuming it was Jason, Dick completely ignored them and made his way back to the bedroom, stripping down and climbing into bed without a second thought, passing out instantly.

He woke to a warm hand on his cheek, lips on his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and he stared up at the person through blurry vision. When the person’s face finally clicked his gasped.

“Hello pretty bird,” Slade said softly, stroking his fingers through Dick’s hair.

It had been a month. A month without any fucking contact and while Dick knew he should be pissed, all he could do was throw himself at Slade, clinging tightly to the mercenary.

“Where have you been?” he asked, words muffled since his face was buried in Slade’s neck. “I texted you a month ago ad you didn’t answer-”

“I’m sorry,” Slade murmured, wrapping an arm around Dick’s shoulders to pull him close. “I saw it and wanted to reply. But-”

“Did you take my ring?” Dick asked, cutting him off because he didn’t really care why Slade didn’t answer. All that mattered was Slade was here now. 

“No,” Slade replied quietly. “It was broken.”

“Oh,” Dick said softly. “How?”

“I’ll explain everything in the morning, birdie,” Slade promised, turning his head to kiss the top of Dick’s head. 

“Are you going to leave again?” Dick asked miserably, throwing his arm over Slade’s waist.

“No,” Slade replied, tightening his grip. “So long as you want me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.”


End file.
